I seem to be caught in a Woody Allen-like quandary — no, I’m not moonlighting in 1920s Paris nor having an affair in Barcelona (darn). To quote a fellow neurotic, “When I am in New York, I want to be in Europe, and when I am in Europe, I want to be in New York.”
I spent last summer in the Big Apple, and now that I’ve settled (at least for the time being) in D.C., I can’t seem to get New York out off my head — especially now that some NYC friends just visited over the weekend. The city has a way of sticking to my brain like gum under those nasty subway chairs.
In an episode of “Sex and the City,” Carrie declared that New York is a great place to be single because the city becomes your date. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Even when I was alone there, the city always seemed to provide me with entertainment and a sense of companionship. I could browse the four-story Barnes & Noble at Union Square or The Strand nearby; I could hide in a hipster cafe in Greenpoint, or get some “nature” time in Prospect Park.
But even more than the infinite possibilities of things to do, what really made NYC great was having so many friends there. When I start comparing WMATA to the MTA (really, there is no comparison) or begin thinking about how much more alive the city seems, I have to remind myself to take a step back and remember what really made New York great.
It also helps keep things in perspective* to remember the mice, bedbugs, and hordes of tourists.
*Note: I imagine it will be even more difficult to resist after I finally see New York in all its springtime glory next month.